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From Dreams to Reality	By : Pat4pat Category: +M through R > Metalocalypse > Het- Male/Female Views: 1566 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Metalocalypse or Dethklok. I do not make money from this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Hello all my wonderful readers! Hope the story is going to your liking so far. Don’t be shy to let me know your honest thoughts, opinions, suggestions. They inspire and help me to continue. With that said, don’t own Dethklok or Metalocalypse. And hope you enjoy!
Pat
One would’ve thought that by now headaches were only reserved for the inexperienced drinkers. But Pickles couldn’t help but groan as a dull ache spread across his head, waking him from a deep sleep. He shifted around, feeling somewhat warmer than usual. As he nestled his prickly face into his pillow, he felt a slight stir beneath him. Pickles suddenly registered skin beneath him, foreign skin.
Pickles brought his head up to see the nameless face of whatever groupie that had followed him back last night. His eyes squinted, still registering to the dim light of his bedroom. He could hear the groupie let out a soft sigh, slowly stirring as she also began to wake up.
Her eyes fluttered open and looked around in confusion until they landed on Pickles. His green eyes grew brighter as they locked stares. Memories from the previous evening came rushing back like a ton of bricks to Pickles. Clearly the same was happening to his presumed groupie, as Layla’s eyes also shot open in surprise.
Last night…Pickles thought. She came back with me and had let me touch her...
Pickles knew he had more than merely touched Layla. He had explored and awakened her body to all the pleasure he was humanly capable of giving her.
Well, almost all the pleasure. Pickles inwardly grinned. We must’ve passed out after…
Pickles’ train of thought ended, hearing and watching his whispered name leaving Layla’s pink lips. They were still slightly swollen from his mouth’s previous aggressive advances.
“Pickles…” she said again, “It’s kinda hard to breath.”
With an aching head, Pickles was slow to register what Layla had said.
“Oh…” he began slowly, still not quite comprehending her words.
Taking in their situation, he noticed that he had fallen asleep on his stomach while she was on her back. Their bodies were pushed together, their legs entangled, his arms wrapped around her waist snuggly. His head had been resting on her breast the whole night.
Layla’s back arched slightly as Pickles quickly pulled his arms out from around her waist. He pushed himself up and rolled to her side. Pickles suddenly felt cold and incomplete, no longer nestled against Layla’s body. He certainly felt the loss of her breast against his face.
“Sorry.” Pickles drawled out in his yooper accent, “I didn’t mean to suffocate ya.”
Layla smiled softly. Though the light was still dim, Pickles could see a faint blush spreading across her cheeks. Layla remained on her back as she gazed back at the drummer, lying on his side with his head resting against a bent arm. The air between them began to grow slightly uncomfortable.
Say something, ya douchebag, he thought to himself.
And in Pickles fashion, he let the only logical response slip from his lips, “How’d ya sleep?”
Pickles inwardly slapped himself across the face as a shocked expression spread across Layla’s gaze. But soon her eyes softened and she laughed. It was a soft sound that brought a smile across Pickles face. All too soon Layla ceased her giggles and brought a blushing gaze back to Pickles.
Pickles had a smirk across his face. Layla’s blush deepened, remembering where he had placed his lips the night before. She bit her bottom lip, recalling his mouth wet from her sex.
“Did we…?” Layla slowly began.
“Nah.” Pickles’ smirk widened, “We must’ve had a lil too much last night and passed out.”
“Oh…Well, I still had a lot of fun.” Layla’s timid smile and soft eyes made Pickles’ puff up in pride. It was a night he would never forget.
“I did, too. Maybe, I mean, if ya wanna, we could continue where we left off…?”
Pickles could feel himself growing harder the more he gazed into Layla’s eyes. Her lower half was unfortunately covered by the sheets, but her breasts were visible, still straining against the white top of her swimsuit. Absently mindedly, Pickles trailed his tongue across his lips, remembering the taste and feel of her nipples against his open mouth. Her dark hair was tangled, spread across his bed. Her rosy cheeks and red lips beckoned him to taste her again. His cock twitched uncomfortably against the swim trunks he still had on. He wanted more of her. He wanted her guttural moans from the night before to slip through his ears once more. He wanted her spread for him, wet and wanting, panting his name sweetly before she cried out in ecstasy.
With a nervous smile, Layla began, “I-“
Bang! Bang! Bang!
“Hey Pickle! Yous in theres?” Toki’s voice echoed from the other side of Pickles’ door.
Layla and Pickles’ eyes widened in unison at the sudden sound of the guitarist’s voice. Before Layla had a chance to react or even think, Pickles grabbed the sheet that covered her and flung them both on the other side of the bed. She let out a small cry in surprise.
Pickles leapt off his bed towards the door, landing flat on his face. Mother douchebag! Struggling to stand and regain composure, he unlocked his door and opened it an inch.
“Toki, dude, what time is it?” Pickles squinted into the lighted hallway. He tried to sound calm, complete opposite to his heart pounding within his chest.
Toki pushed the door open, stepping inside. Pickles quickly jumped back, ceasing the guitarist from entering any further.
“Wowee Pickle, whats is wrong withs you today?”
“Nothin’. Just, ya know, want my privacy is all.” Pickles stuttered in response. He did not want Toki to find a half clothed Layla wrapped in his sheets. That was something for his eyes alone.
Toki looked at the visible side of Pickles’ bed. “You has a girls in heres or something? Hey, those looks like the swimsuits that Layla has on last nights.”
Pickles turned to follow Toki’s gaze. Discarded from the night before lay Layla’s white swimsuit bottoms with the gold accents. Pickles fingers twitched, recalling the feel of the soft skin of her thighs as he slowly peeled them off her. But panic soon overtook the drummer’s wandering thoughts.
“No, dude! It’s just some groupie!” he snapped back at a surprised Toki. Toki’s face was twisted in confusion as he now gazed down at Pickles still wearing his swimsuit. Pickles shifted uncomfortably, hoping Toki hadn’t noticed his half chub. Before he had a chance to comment, Pickles snapped Toki back from his thoughts. “Now why the fuck you gotta wake me up so goddamn early?”
Toki seemed to forget all about the white swimsuit bottoms. “I went to go sees Layla but it looking likes she never wents to beds last nights.”
“Well, why the hell would you think to look here?” Pickles hoped to all that was evil that Toki could not pick up on the guilty falter within his voice.
“Yous were with hers last. I just thoughts that maybes you woulds know where Laylas is at?”
“Well she ain’t here.” Pickles brow slightly furrowed, a spark igniting in his chest. Why the fuck does Toki care where Layla’s at? It’s none of his damn business. Toki was beginning to piss the drummer off in a bad way. His fingers now twitched to grab hold of the guitarist’s neck and shake him senseless.
Pickles continued, “She’s just probably off doing girl stuff or whatever. Now get outta my room so I can go back to sleep.”
As Toki was shoved back into the hallway, he turned as if to say something else, but by then Pickles had slammed his door shut. He turned the lock slowly, listening to the retreating footsteps in the hallway.
Turning back around, Pickles walked towards his bed. Bending down, he grasped the white swimsuit firmly in his hand. He looked at it thoughtfully, remembering all that it signified for him and for Layla.
His head shot up at the sound of Layla clearing her throat. She was standing on the other side of the bed, thankfully invisible from the doorway, clutching the sheets around her midsection.
During Pickles and Toki’s brief conversation, her heart had been hammering in her chest. Layla had feared that they could hear the violent beating of her heart. Only when she heard the door shut and lock did she realize that she was gripping onto the sheets. She quickly released her white knuckle hold, flexing her hands in relief.
“Ah, that was close.” Pickles nervously laughed, shifting his feet around.
Layla merely gave another shy smile. “Pickles, could you, ah…” She looked down at Pickles hand.
Following her gaze, Pickles stuttered in awkward realization, “Oh, ah ya. Here.” He tossed the swim bottoms across the bed. Layla caught them one handed.
“Could I have a moment?” she cleared her throat.
“Oh ya. Right.” Pickles had to literally tear his gaze away from the scantily clad Layla and turn around. “Just let me know when you’re done, you know, gettin’ dressed and stuff.”
Pickles squeezed his sweaty hands into fists, fighting the urge to turn around. He could hear the rustle of the sheets as they were dropped on the floor, the soft swish of fabric against skin. It seemed like an eternity before he felt a soft touch against his back. Turing around a little too eagerly, Pickles looked down to see Layla standing before him.
Her dark hair still hung loosely around her face and down her back and shoulders, but the white bikini was once again in place. Pickles reached out his hands and rested them against her hips. Layla shuddered beneath his fingertips, looking up into Pickles’ glowing green eyes. Her eyes traveled to his beard, which had tickled her awake this morning. She noticed he had faint freckles across his shoulders. Her eyes traveled even lower, following a patch of red hair that trailed down and disappeared beneath his swim trunks. Though Pickles had a slight belly from all the booze he drank, Layla could still see the sharp v that was etched below his belly button and by his hips.
A firm hand grasped Layla’s chin, pulling her face back up towards Pickles. His eyes, now at half mast, had grown dark. His signature crooked grin spread across his face. Layla could feel her pulse start to race again at the deep and sultry sound of his voice.
“Now where were we?...”
“I should probably go.” Layla did not recognize her voice, “Toki’s right. I better get to my room. My head hurts anyway. And I should probably take a shower.”
Layla had stepped back from Pickles, his hands dropping to his sides. A darker look had passed across his face at the mention of Toki’s name. She had almost made it to his door when a firm grasp spun her around and pinned her against the cold, stone wall. With his knee, Pickles spread Layla’s legs apart and pushed his re-hardening groin against Layla. To his enjoyment, he was sure she did not notice how she moaned in pleasure as his hips slightly rocked against hers. One hand firmly grasped onto her waist while the other snaked behind her neck, pulling her hair back so that her face looked up towards the drummer.
Her mouth had parted in slight shock. Pickles had quickly taken this opportunity to capture her lips in a deep kiss. With shining green eyes still at half mast, Pickles watched as Layla’s own eyes closed in surrender. She let out a whimper of pleasure as his tongue snaked inside of her mouth, circling around her own. All too soon, Pickles reluctantly broke the kiss. Leaning his forehead against Layla’s, he watched with pride as her eyes slowly fluttered open. Gazing back, she seemed to be contemplating something as she nibbled on her bottom lip. Pickles resisted the urge to replace her teeth with his own.
“Could we…” Layla’s voice was soft, merely a whisper, “Could we do this, again, sometime?”
Pickles wicked grin flashed across his face before he buried himself in her neck. Layla laughed, wrapping her arms around Pickles’ neck. She could feel him purr against her skin, placing light kisses and licks across the tender flesh. Pickles rested his cheek against Layla’s, relishing the sound of her laugh and the feel of her skin beneath his fingertips. He brought his lips to Layla’s once more, placing a lingering peck across the luscious flesh.
Smiling down at his Layla, he brought his hand to brush her dark hair away from her face.
“We’ll hang out real soon, k?” Pickles stretched out “real” in his Wisconsin accent.
“K.” Layla smiled back at Pickles.
It seemed to take all the effort the drummer possessed, but he managed to release Layla from his hold. She flashed him one more sweet smile before exiting his room and hurrying back to her own. Letting out a long sigh, Pickles stretched his arms above his head before linking them behind his head. Walking towards his bed, he gazed down at the rumpled sheets. A sly smile spread across his face as he noticed a light stain on his bed. It was a stain he never wanted to go away.
I’ll be seeing you real soon…
I’ll be the first to admit that this was not my best chapter. However, I needed to somehow develop the story so it’s not just filled with nonstop smut…unless that’s what you prefer? :) Please review with your thoughts! Thanks!
- 6
- 7
- 8
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From Dreams to Reality